The only time my surgeon advised against hard running was when I had 27 stitches over my amputated fingertip. I sensed trouble when blood pumped out of the stumpy wound.
 
Finger loss runs in my family. My great grandfather lost his little and middle finger through fighting and two great uncles earned their living bare fist fighting. They too had fingers amputated through injury. They were Northamptonshire Romany gypsies.
 
I started weight training again. My muscle loss was scary. I didn’t think it possible but my arms had wasted thinner than their regular knots-in-cotton look. I’ve never been a Billy Bicep. It was also noted by a friend that they’d seen more fat on a butcher’s pencil.